


Dragons and Imminent Flaying

by Rasiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Plans For The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: "I'd rather not talk about how my mum is going to flay me, thanks," Charlie interrupts.





	Dragons and Imminent Flaying

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published: 7-26-18; not sure how this slipped passed my radar. I usually double post these days unless it's ao3 exclusive. Hm.
> 
> for brokenbottlearoura at the monthly one shot exchange. your prompts were insanely difficult, but I hope you like the result. Charlie/Tonks, romance, "Stop stealing all my _"

"Dragons?"

Tonks wrinkles her nose, causing Charlie to grin. "Yes," he agrees.

"You realize how many more classes on magical creatures you're going to have take after we graduate? And veterinarian stuff, too," she adds, the roots of her hair turning green as she thinks. "The sheer amount of problems you're going to have - what are you going to tell your mum, anyway? She won't let you leave-"

"Alright, Tonks," Charlie sighed, "I get it. It'll be hard."

"You bet it will," she says, dropping dramatically onto the bed beside him. He eyes her curiously.

"How'd you get in here?" he asks. She waves her hand dismissively.

"Details," she says. "Who cares? I'm in here."

"In the _boys'_ dorm," he emphasizes. She snorts.

" _Thank you_ , I wasn't aware. Now, back to the subject at hand-"

"I'd rather not talk about how my mum is going to flay me, thanks," Charlie interrupts, joining her in staring at the ceiling.

He feels her gaze settle on him and he looks over, meeting her eyes. They're a stormy violet today, matching the now silver-green of her hair. She doesn't say anything. It's unusual. She always has something to talk about.

"What?" he asks, voice soft.

"Dragons," she says again. "You won't be in England, you know."

"I thought we already established that," he says, hesitant. There's something lurking in her eyes that he doesn't like.

But she averts her gaze. "I'll be in England," she says.

"Well, yes-"

"And you won't be."

"Tonks? We already covered that. What's your point?" he asks, exasperated. He sits up, and she moves with him. She keeps moving, though, and next thing he knows she's kissing him, her fists tangled in his sweater.

It's not exactly comfortable. He can feel the wrinkles around her eyes as her they're scrunched shut, and she's puckered her lips too much, but despite that, the touch is feather-light. He's frozen, and so is she, and he realizes belatedly that she's probably waiting for a reaction. But he's at a loss, really.

She pulls back eventually, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "Your mum will have a hell of a time flaying you once she realizes I've already done it," she says. It's oddly conversational, like she hadn't just kissed him or threatened him. Her hands are still holding to his sweater, and she's very close. He can feel her breath on his face. Her eyes flicker between his, a glossy sheen closing over them. "Say something," she whispers.

But he can't. He can, however, move. He reaches out and cradles the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. He pulls her back in, tilting his head for a smoother angle. Her inexperience is clear, but he had a girlfriend and a boyfriend once upon a time and so he guides her, keeping it simple but it's a lot less of a mess.

She's the one to pull away again, her breath shaky. "You're leaving me."

"Not forever," he says. "Like you said, I'll be flayed if I never came back."

"No," she refutes. "I said you'll be flayed if you leave in the first place."

He softens, running his thumb over her cheek. "Guess I'll stock up on bandages," he murmurs, trying to make it sound like he wasn't breaking her heart. Her sharp inhale says that he failed. "You know I have to go."

"Must you?"

He laughs, but there's no humor to it. "I'll fly you out. You can get on a Muggle machine and come to see me. But yes. I have to go. Not only is it the only calling I've ever had, but I've already got a job-"

She hits his arm, tugging him in for another kiss. "You didn't tell me," she accuses. "Why?"

"I knew you didn't want me to go."

"Stupid. You're so stupid," she sighs. "But I put up with it."

"Stop stealing all my lines," he laughs, and she winks, the light-hearted atmosphere returning briefly before it sours again. "I'll write," he promises.

"You'd better. Otherwise flaying will be the least of your worries."

He rolls his eyes. "Let's think of something else."

"Like what?" she asks, eyebrows raised. He smirks and leans back in, tugging her into his lap. "Ooh, devious," she purrs, her hair turning light pink. He laughs, biting at her lips.


End file.
